


Naked Christmas

by Ephemera_pop (Alex_Draven)



Category: Popslash
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Multi, Secret Santa, UK AU, mtyg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2018-10-19 15:52:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Draven/pseuds/Ephemera_pop
Summary: "I told my mum I'm not going to go up to hers for Christmas this year.""But Christmas is the day after tomorrow," Lance said, dumbly."Yeah, it is." Chris pushed himself off the wall and stepped half a foot into Lance's room. "Give us your mug – you want a cup of tea?"Lance passed his mug over on auto-pilot, and Chris vanished. Lance could hear him in the kitchen, but his words still didn't quite make sense.Lance had been a bit intimidated by Chris when he first moved in to the house as a lowly second year undergrad physicist, but one of the first things he'd found out about the unconventional graduate student he was sharing with was that Chris was totally committed to his family. Chris's post was mostly bills, music fanzines, and letters from his sisters. His share of the phone bill was almost all to his mum – Lance should know, he was the one who had to split the bills.Chris not going home just didn't make sense.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for vaudevilles for Make the Yuletide Gay, 2007. (This was a pitch-hit, and ridiculous amounts of fun to write. Co-written with NoPseud.)

So most people didn't spend the evening before Christmas Eve holed up in their rooms studying. Most people were out partying, or enjoying the thousands of culturally or commercially valuable events going on around London, or working in insanely stressful retail jobs.

Lance was quite glad, really, that he wasn't working in an insanely stressful retail job, and pretty sure that he'd made the right decision not to go out. He wasn't really in the mood for forced festive jollity, and it was quite satisfying, working through next term's problems and feeling the shape of the equations settling in his mind.

"I'm not going home this Christmas." A voice broke Lance's concentration.

Lance looked up, and there was his housemate, Chris, leaning against the doorframe of Lance's room, smiling. Lance put his notes down and stared at Chris.

"You what?"

"I told my mum I'm not going to go up to hers for Christmas this year."

"But Christmas is the day after tomorrow," Lance said, dumbly.

"Yeah, it is." Chris pushed himself off the wall and stepped half a foot into Lance's room. "Give us your mug – you want a cup of tea?"

To keep the washing up from turning into a health hazard, it was a house rule that everyone had one set of crockery, and had to wash up after themselves. Lance's mug was white, with a picture of Luke Skywalker. Chris's was black, with the logo of some tiny record label printed on the inside.

Lance passed his mug over on auto-pilot, and Chris vanished. Lance could hear him in the kitchen, but his words still didn't quite make sense.

Lance had been a bit intimidated by Chris when he first moved in to the house as a lowly second year undergrad physicist, but one of the first things he'd found out about the unconventional graduate student he was sharing with was that Chris was totally committed to his family. Chris's post was mostly bills, music fanzines, and letters from his sisters. His share of the phone bill was almost all to his mum – Lance should know, he was the one who had to split the bills.

Chris not going home just didn't make sense.

He and Chris were the only two left in the big Victorian house that they shared. Justin – this year's lowly second year – had been picked up by his parents the day his final essay was due, JC had taken a train to his parents' the day before, and Joey had left this morning. As far as Lance knew, Chris had a coach ticket booked for this evening.

Pushing his chair back, Lance followed Chris into the kitchen. His room was on the ground floor – what estate agents would call the second reception, but in the way of all student houses, it was now an extra bedroom, making the rent that bit easier to manage for everyone.

"Oh, there you are – you want a biscuit?" Chris was talking with his mouth full, and brandishing an open packet of malted milk creams at Lance.

"Thanks. Um, Chris – why aren't you going home?"

Chris shrugged, and the biscuit snapped between Lance's fingers. He pushed one half into his mouth, forcing himself to give Chris time to answer.

"Just thought I'd stay here for a change, keep you company. Here's your tea."

He held out Lance's mug by the rim, and Lance had to juggle the biscuit to take it before Chris would scald his fingers.

"But I'll be fine," Lance insisted.

So long as he didn't think about why he wasn't going home, the idea of having four or five days when he was the only person in the house actually sounded pretty good.

"I know, but still – I fancied a change. I haven't hosted a friends' Christmas in years."

"Hosted?" Hanging around the house surely didn't warrant the word 'hosted'?

"Well, yeah." Chris looked down at his mug. He was holding it between his hands, rolling it slowly. "I probably should have asked you if it was okay, though. It's just I was out last night, and you remember AJ, right?"

"Skinny guy, lots of ink, helps out at QT sometimes? Artist?"

QT was shorthand for Queer and Twisted, the club night Chris ran.

"That's the guy. Well, I was talking to Ricky, and he told me that AJ's had some kind of a fight with Alyssa and Carol, so he's been crashing on Ricky's sofa, only Ricky's leaving for the holidays tomorrow, so I invited AJ over here. I already talked to Joey, and AJ can sleep in his room for a few days."

"Oh – okay. That's – are you staying here just to hang out with AJ, then?" At least that would make sense.

"Think of it as an added bonus." Chris seemed much happier now that Lance had agreed. "Mostly I figured you might be able to use some company."

"I'm fine."

Chris rolled his eyes. "'Course you are. But you've had a really shitty few months, kid, so let your friends worry about you, would you?"

It had, really, been a shitty few months. Lance was still not over how unfair it was that he'd come out to his parents for Reichen, and all he'd got in return was the embarrassment of having to tell his friends that Reichen had dumped him.

Lance figured that not being welcome at home with his family for Christmas would have sucked a lot less if he'd been spending the time in a hotel room with his lover and a couple of bottles of champagne. He could totally have got used to that kind of lifestyle, but Reichen had had other plans.

Lance was fine, really he was, but he wasn't quite over it.

He gave Chris a kind of wry half smile, and then suggested that maybe this time he'd beat Chris at Grand Theft Auto. As they made their way to the living room, Chris jostled against Lance, and Lance pushed back, squishing Chris between Lance's shoulder and the wall, and somehow that did make things easier.

*****

They were in the supermarket, along with every other living being in the area, and Lance was taking the mickey out of Chris's method of catering instead of helping. Irritating brat. Chris's phone rang.

He shoved the family pack of crisps he was holding into Lance's arms, ignoring the slightly horrified look on Lance's face, and answered it with a cheerful 'AJ!' He was looking forward to having one of his favourite door floozies come to stay.

"Hey, Chris. How're you doing?" AJ's voice was quiet compared to the racket in the shop - whoever had thought Cliff Richard would be improved by being turned into a musak version anyway? Chris turned his back on Lance and stuck a finger in his other ear to cut out some of the background noise.

"Pretty good – how about you?"

"Yeah, yeah – look – um – about tonight? How open is that invite?"

"What's up?"

There's this guy I know, Nick. I ran in to him this morning, and he's got no place to go. He's only a kid, really, foundation year, and …"

"Absolutely, bring him along," Chris interrupted.

"You sure?"

"Unless you know some reason why I shouldn't be?"

"Shit, no, he's a nice guy. He works in my studio sometimes. It's some fucked up family thing, I think."

"Then, yeah, bring him with. It's not a problem – the more the merrier."

"You're a star, Chris."

"I know."

"And an arrogant bugger." Chris could hear AJ smiling.

"Yeah, I know that too. Look – I'm in the middle of Tesco – I'd better go. Just give me a call when you're about to come over, to make sure we're in."

"Sure thing, Chris. See you later."

"Later."

Chris closed his phone with a click, and slid it into his back pocket before turning round, where Lance was waiting with a raised eyebrow.

"We have an extra body for Christmas, so back it up, Bass. We'll need more cheese. And booze."

*****

They had bought a lot of booze.

It was lined up along the wall in the corridor, because there wasn't really room in the kitchen for them, and the food, and all the booze. Really, there was a lot of food, and a lot of booze. It was like Chris was expecting to be feeding the five thousand or something.

As far as Lance knew, the plan was four people for two and a bit days. AJ and his friend would be showing up any time now, before the busses stopped running, and staying for Christmas and for Boxing Day.

Not that Lance was being given a lot of time to think about the plan, seeing as Chris had been possessed by the spirit of Christmas – or possibly the spirits of Christmas, although Lance hadn't actually seen him drinking – and was now preparing to cook. To bake, even, which apparently required Lance to assist.

"My mum always makes this – it's a million times better than a poxy fruit cake," Chris assured Lance, as he scooped flour and sugar into the big saucepan he was using as a makeshift mixing bowl. "It's not a proper Christmas without chocolate death cake! Pass us the cocoa, would you?"

Chris gestured towards the pile of carrier bags on the floor in the corner, blocking the door to the cupboard under the stairs where the electricity key meter lived. Lance had the key in his pocket, charged up with enough cash to keep the power on through to New Year's.

Rummaging through the bag, Lance found a pot of cocoa in with a jar of pickled onions and some tins of – Lance tilted his head to be sure that he was reading correctly – London Breakfast? Lance turned the can. No, London Breakfast. Baked beans, sausage and eggs. In a tin. Lance shuddered.

"You're a very odd man," he observed as he held out the cocoa to Chris, can of inexplicable bean-based food still in one hand.

"Huh?" Chris looked over, taking the cocoa absentmindedly. "Oh - so that's not a traditional Christmas breakfast thing for your family then?"

"I don't think we do have a breakfast tradition, just, you know - being up and dressed ready for church in the morning." Lance's throat closed a little, as he thought about what he was saying.

Chris paused amongst the wreckage he was creating in the kitchen, and looked right at Lance, made sure Lance knew that Chris was making a serious offer. "You want to go to midnight mass tonight?"

It was always disconcerting when Chris did things like that - reminded you that he wasn't just the joke-y one, that he cared, and that his undergraduate degree had been in psychology.

"I don't know," Lance started to say, and then "Actually - yeah. Yeah, I do. I mean - you don't have to come with me or anything, but - that's not a bad idea."

Chris's smile was softer than his usual grin. "I'll come with," was all he said before he turned back to the mixing pan and started stabbing at the foil seal of the cocoa with the handle of a spoon.

Lance leaned back against the opposite counter, and hefted the can in his hand. "So - London Breakfast?" he asked, knowing that it would give Chris the chance to ramble on and he wouldn't have to say much for a while to keep the conversation rolling.

*****

AJ arrived in a flurry of cold night air and tinsel and bags, with a tall but quiet blond - Nick - trailing behind, looking slightly uncomfortable. The look only intensified when Chris hooted and cheered when Lance let them in, which was mostly why Chris did it. No one who was friends with AJ could really be the shy, retiring type, so it was just a matter of letting him know that he could let go here.

"Chris! My hero! Thank you!" AJ gushed over Lance's shoulder, before kissing Lance - on the lips, not the cheek. Nick watched carefully for cues, and Chris smiled to himself when Lance responded in kind, sliding and arm around AJ's narrow waist. Two birds with one stone - Lance needed all the reminders he could get that Reichen wasn't the only man in the world, and Nick visibly relaxed.

"My turn!" Chris announced, squishing himself into the narrow space left in the hallway between Lance, AJ, and AJ's bags, throwing his arms around both his friends and kissing first AJ and then Lance with exaggerated 'mwahs'. "Come in, come in," he said, pushing them towards the living room door. "I need to say hi to our other guest - you must be Nick."

"Uh huh," Nick nodded, which Chris took for an invitation to throw one arm around Nick's waist - damn, the boy was tall - and ignore the backpack he was wearing in order to give him a welcoming squeeze.

"I'm glad you could make it," Chris said, when Nick gave in and hugged back. Behind him, Chris could hear AJ complaining already about how un-decorated the living room was.

Stepping back to give Nick room to swing the front door shut behind him, Chris gestured into the house.

"You want the two pence tour?"

"Thanks," Nick said, and then patted his bag's shoulder strap. "Starting with where's a good place to put this down?"

Chris made an executive decision that Nick could crash in Justin's room. It seemed stupid to make the lad sleep on the couch when there were empty beds.

"First stop - your temporary bedroom." Chris nodded towards the stairs.

"Going up in the world," Nick quipped, lamely, and Chris chuckled.

"Come on …" he said, heading up the stairs with Nick following.

*****

When Chris and Nick didn't come clattering back down the stairs almost immediately, Lance figured that his housemate was probably using his wily psychology skills to persuade their guest to tell Chris his entire life story. Chris was good like that.

Meanwhile, though, that left Lance to entertain AJ.

Or contain AJ, might be a more accurate phrase.

Lance hadn't really thought about it, but if he had, he'd have said that he expected AJ not in a club to be less … less full on one hundred and ten percent AJ. Clearly that had been a stupid expectation.

From the tinsel wrapped around his cowboy hat, to the glittery red laces in his docs, AJ was head-to-toe Christmas camp, and the sorry state of their front room was clearly an affront to his sense of occasion. Joey had slung a net of multicoloured lights up in the bay window, and JC had contributed a straggly string of white ones that they'd stapled around the top of the walls, but that was their sum total decoration. It had seemed like plenty when the five of them had been sharing a bottle of schnapps and a James Bond marathon.

"I can't believe you guys don't have a tree!" AJ was saying when Lance returned from the kitchen with two mugs of tea.

"There didn't seem much point when it was just going to be me." Lance shrugged.

"Thanks, babe." AJ relieved Lance of one of the cups, and then shook his head as he settled on one of the couches. "Honestly, you're such a boy sometimes. When it's just you is the perfect time to go for the whole decadence thing. Just you, and some really good wine, and delicious food, and the heat turned up to a balmy no-clothes sort of temperature … Of course, you shouldn't let the presence of guests stop you if you were wanting a naked Christmas."

"AJ!" Lance protested. "No one wants a naked Christmas."

"Oh, speak for yourself, honey… I'm teasing. Babe - you and Chris are letting me into your home, and you've got to know that that means the world to me, so you know I'm not complaining, right?"

AJ fluttered unfeasibly long lashes at him, and Lance made 'I know' noises. Was AJ wearing mascara as well as eyeliner?

"I just want to do what I can to make Christmas special. I mean, Lord knows, you don't want me to help with the cooking, but anything I can actually do well, whether that's making perfect spliffs or decking the halls, I want to do it. You're not going to be offended if I pretty the place up a little, are you?"

"You do that just by being here."

Lance felt like a dork saying things like that, but it made AJ smile, and call him a flatterer, which made Lance feel less like he was out of his depth, so it was worth it.

"Oh!" AJ erupted with his mug raised half way to his mouth. "We should make paper chains! Paper chains, and snowflakes and paper bats to hang from the ceiling!"

*****

Chris was an excellent friend. This was Chris's considered opinion, given that he'd sat through a really long church service for Lance, one with three readings, and a sermon about the evils of commercialism and how the message of Christmas was love, without saying any of the sarcastic things he was thinking.

Chris'd even sung carols, although that part was quite fun. Sneaky Lance had never told Chris that he could sing, and had reacted to Chris's elbow digging him in the side in the middle of the second verse of Once in Royal David's City with a pleasingly smug expression. Chris had seen way too much of Lance looking quiet and miserable in recent months.

He was quiet now, as they walked home from church through the frosty night, but more like he was thinking than like he was moping.

Chris took a couple of hurried steps, so he was walking by Lance's side, and slipped one hand through the crook of Lance's elbow, pulling them closer together.

"Hey," he said.

Lance pressed his elbow into his side, giving Chris's hand a squeeze, but didn't say anything. Chris let it slide for another hundred yards or so.

"It gets better, right?" Lance said, eventually, not turning his head to look at Chris.

"Yeah. Yeah, it does." Chris kept his voice very matter of fact, and forced himself not to ramble, to give Lance space to talk in.

"I guess it's just - all the happy families stuff, you know? That and the couples. It kind of sucks not to have either."

Chris could feel Lance hunching his shoulders up, and swayed closer, giving Lance a little bump. "It does. But you will. Your parents will get over it, and as soon as you decide you're ready, there'll be a queue of guys waiting to woo you, and in the mean time there's us.

They walked on in silence, until they turned into their road.

"Thanks, Chris." Lance's voice was a little thicker than usual, and Chris was smart enough not to call him on it. Instead Chris held the rickety gate at the end of their path open for him with an exaggerated bow.

"Enter, my lord," Chris said, and then popped Lance on the bum as he came past, which meant that they landed on the doorstep laughing and play fighting.

The door swung open without either of them having a key in hand, and there was a cold second where Chris thought of all the things that might have happened before he was able to take in what he was seeing.

A split second after that, Nick and AJ barrelled into the hall, sliding on socked feet, and yelling 'Happy Christmas'.

"Woah," Lance answered in a low voice.

Woah was right. Every light in the house was blazing, and their guests had transformed the place. The snakes' nests of paper chain they'd spent the evening assembling from Chris's music magazines and Lance's Men's Health back issues now crisscrossed the ceiling, right back into the kitchen, and there was tinsel woven around the banisters and oversize holly leaves cut out of shiny green wrapping paper making a frieze on the wall.

They stumbled in, tripping over each other trying to get out of the cold, not helped by AJ throwing himself at the pair of them. Chris got an arm around AJ's waist, the other braced against the wall, to help take the impact then Lance was pressed back against him.

"Mistletoe kisses!" demanded AJ, and then when Lance said 'What?', "Look up, babe."

Sure enough, when Chris looked up, Nick and AJ had managed to create unmistakably mistletoe-ish leaves out of wrapping paper, with silver foil 'berries', and pinned them on the ceiling everywhere the paper chains crossed.

AJ's lips were dry, and his breath tasted of cigarettes under the sweetness of the port he'd been sipping. Watching him kiss Lance from close up was pretty, though, a brief, hot, study in contrasts, and then AJ pulled back and Lance was looking at Chris with those unnaturally green eyes.

So Chris kissed him: just a soft, careful, closed-mouth kiss. A good-friends kiss.

And then Chris stood there, shell shocked, as AJ pulled Lance down the corridor, and they vanished with Nick into the living room.

Someone had found Chris's stash of weird covers of Christmas music, and even though the volume was at a 'not disturbing the neighbours' level, all Chris could hear for a moment was all I want for Christmas is you in Gerard Way's voice.

Chris shook his head, and unzipped his fleece before going to see what AJ and Nick had turned his living room into.

The transformation did, indeed, continue, with yet more paper chains, and a ceiling covered in dangling snowflakes, black bats, and the odd newspaper print origami crane. There was a large silver star on the wall over the bricked-up fireplace - Chris hoped they'd left some foil for the cooking. Above the television, a large red and white golf umbrella that Chris vaguely recognised as being Justin's had been decorated with spirals of tinsel and white fairly lights, and had crumpled silver foil baubles hanging from the spines, like a post-modern Christmas tree.

"Dude!" Lance was saying, grinning and thumping Nick on the shoulder. "You guys!"

"Only the best for the best hosts in town," said AJ.

"So, you like it then?" Nick asked, looking around to make eye contact with Chris.

"Do I like it? Nick, AJ, you're like, fairy godmothers of Christmas or something!"

"I'm the fairy, he's the god." AJ stretched up to kiss Nick on the cheek. "He made mulled wine, too," AJ said, like a proud parent.

"For real?" Chris asked, and Nick nodded, with a pleased expression. "Excellent. I'll go get some mugs, then."

"I'll help," AJ said, throwing his arm around Chris's shoulders and gluing himself to Chris's back.

The kitchen was less decorated, but smelled warm and Christmassy, and Nick had not only got wine steaming on the stove with a clove-studded orange floating about in it, he'd also done all the washing up. Nick could stay.

"So," AJ said, in a quieter voice when the kitchen door swung shut behind them. "What's going on? Is Lance alright?"

Chris squeezed AJ's hand and then pulled AJ's arm off him, so he could dig into the back of his cupboard to find some extra mugs. Christmas with friends deserved a semi-matching set, and all of his were black.

"Lance? He will be. It's been a rough year for him. You remember Reichen, right? I think Lance brought him down to the club once or twice. Rat bastard dumped him a couple of weeks ago, just in time for the holidays. Little Mister Activist Man will be spending Christmas at home with his family, and a girl called Anne, whose daddy's in the City."

AJ leaned back on the counter, stretching so his tight black t-shirt rode up a little, exposing tan skin.

"And this is the guy who pretty much blackmailed Lance into coming out to his parents, right? What a cock."

"Hey! - I like cocks," Chris pointed out. "Ah-ha! I knew I had a ladle."

He started doling out the drink, breathing in the aromatic steam.

"Speaking of the good kind of cock, has Lance ever hit on you?" AJ asked, subtle as ever.

"Nah, I'm not Lance's type. Lance likes good-looking guys," Chris shot back, looking over his shoulder.

AJ looked at Chris with wide, disapproving eyes. "Oh, honey. None of that. I can think of at least two men in this house who'd have you right now if you'd let them. It would probably be three, but I'm not offering to share with Nicky, so I've never asked him."

"Alexander James, you are a liar. But I like your lies, so carry right on." Chris's reply was just like a hundred nights' worth of teasing, but AJ's hadn't sounded that playful...

"No lies," Alex said, and when Chris tried to look away, AJ caught his chin with one finger. "I mean it. If either of you wanted a flaming queen for Christmas, I'd be there faster than you can say 'Merry Christmas', and the two of you together? Whew!"

AJ let go of Chris to fan himself, and Chris turned back to serving the mulled wine, cheeks hotter than could be justified by the heat in the kitchen.  
AJ's arm wound its way around Chris's waist, and AJ mumbled into Chris's shoulder blade, "I just thought of you and Lance and me together and can we take a minute or two longer serving these drinks? Don't want to scare the horses."

"AJ!" Chris hissed, not sure what he was protesting about. "You can't …"

"I can if I don't rub up on people who've said no," AJ pointed out, in a more familiar tone of voice. "And you didn't say no."

Chris sloshed wine onto the counter, a rich red puddle spreading over the scratched Formica "I, um…"

"Think about it, okay?" AJ twisted in a way that made sure Chris could tell how AJ felt about the idea. "Who doesn't want orgasms for Christmas?"

*****

When Lance woke up, he could hear the low buzz of voices coming from the kitchen. They weren't loud enough to have woken him up, and it was oddly comforting to know that he wasn't alone. He stretched, and shifted under the duvet, and decided that yes, actually, he was really awake, and not about to fall back to sleep. Rolling over, he tweaked aside the curtains to the patio doors that served as his window. The concrete yard was glittery with frost under a thin winter sun, and the sight made him shiver and snuggle back down under the covers. Maybe he could stay put for a while longer?

He drowsed, listening to the voices from the kitchen, identifying Chris with the ease of familiarity, and eventually concluding that the other person must be Nick. Every now and again he could hear them laughing.

"Hey, Chris!" he yelled eventually.

"What?" Chris shouted back.

"Make me a cup of coffee?"

There were footsteps, and then his bedroom door banged open. "You lazy bugger!" Chris announced. "Get your backside out of bed and come and have breakfast like a civilised person."

"But it's cold out there."

"So put on a jumper. I'll make you coffee if you get up."

Chris was so easy sometimes.

"Deal," Lance smiled.

Chris rolled his eyes, but shut the door when he left, so Lance wouldn't have to flash anyone walking past to reach his dressing gown.

The kitchen was chilly, even wearing a thick towelling robe and ridiculous Darth Vader fluffy slippers, but Chris was true to his word, and there was a fresh cafetiere on the side.

"Morning," said Nick. "We didn't wake you up, did we?"

"Compared to Chris and Justin on a normal morning, you were quiet as mice."

"Hey!" Chris held up a wooden spoon dripping with tomato sauce. "I'm cooking you breakfast, so be nice."

"I'm not sure heating a tin -"

"I am also making toast."

"I bow before your culinary genius," Lance teased, remembering what Chris had told him about his family Christmases in temporary accommodation, and resolving to at least try to enjoy the unlikely concoction. "But can we eat in the living room, where the fire is?"

"You want me to go wake AJ up?" Nick offered.

"Could you?" Chris was stirring furiously. "And Lance, go put the fire on?"

"Fire and coffee - check." Lance collected his mug and the cafetiere and followed Nick as far as the foot of the stairs.

The electric fire the landlord had installed took a while to heat up, so Lance snagged the armchair, curling up with his bare feet tucked under him, and wrapped his hands around a mug of coffee, breathing in the aroma and soaking up the heat. Even by daylight the decorated living room looked pretty cool - for a dorky value of cool. Justin was going to do his nut about what had happened to his umbrella, but that, Lance concluded, was a problem for another day.

"Hey." Nick came back down - sans AJ, and settled into the couch, mirroring Lance's hunched-over-coffee pose.

"You sleep okay?" It was a lame conversational opener, but Lance was pre-coffee.

"Yeah, thanks. I've been sofa surfing so long, I'd almost forgotten what it's like sleeping in a real bed."

Lance thought about pressing for more detail, and then decided that probably wouldn't lead to happy festive thoughts. "I'm glad you guys came over to stay. It would have been pretty miserable being here on my own," he said instead.

"I told you." Chris appeared in the doorway carrying two plates of toast and beans with added extras. "Good to know you acknowledge my clarity of perception. Here, breakfast for you." He passed a plate to Nick, who accepted it one handed with a thank you. "And one for you."

Lance put his mug down and balanced the hot plate on his lap.

"I take it Alexander James is still abed?" Chris asked Nick, who had a forkful of beans in his mouth, so just nodded. "All the more for me, then."

Chris vanished back to the kitchen, and returned with a loaded plate and steaming mug, which were dumped on the coffee table long enough for Chris to turn the tv on to the cartoon channel and get situated on the other couch.

Raising his mug of tea, Chris made sure he had both of their attention before making the toast to "And a happy Christmas to all."

Lance couldn't help but smile. The room was warming up, and it was cosily domestic with the three of them tucking into Chris's mutant beans on toast to the accompaniment of the Flintstones. Nothing like Christmas at home, but, well - that was kind of the point.

They'd moved on from bickering about which kids' shows were better to playing a rousing game of tiddlywinks before AJ graced them with his presence. And 'grace them' was the right term. Lance couldn't look away.

AJ appeared in the living room door, striking a pose, with a polite 'ta-da!', a perfect vision of glam-punk on a festive theme. He was wearing full eye makeup, his hair a perfect confection of spikes with glitter tips, and his form-fitting sleeveless t-shirt showed off his tattoos and said 'happy fucking xmas' on it in green glitter. He'd found a matching belt, and even switched out the laces in his boots.

"Damn," said Chris under his breath, just as AJ rolled his eyes and said "Don't tell me I'm the only person who dresses for dinner."

"You're the only person who dresses for dinner, but, oh boy, do we appreciate the effort," Chris replied.

"Uh-uh," said AJ, shaking his head firmly. "We all make an effort. Nick, Chris - you get a delay until you've finished cooking, but Lance, babe, you're going to get dressed up when you get dressed, aren't you? Can't have you hiding your light under a bathrobe."

"Thought you wanted a naked Christmas." Lance smiled, and tugged at the edge of his dressing gown, revealing a bit of chest.

"Tease," growled Chris, while Nick manfully tried both to hide his mirth and not take a look.

"Naked, or properly dressed," AJ corrected him. "And that ratty old thing is neither."

Lance had to concede that AJ did have a point, and surrendered his place at the tiddlywinks table to AJ, with strict instructions not to bet against Chris, and went to get dressed.

He'd planned on getting dressed at some point, but not on getting dressed up so there was a fair amount of rooting through drawers and trying out different combinations before he was satisfied. Black jeans, and the eyeliner and plain leather collar that he wore to QT, but with a wine-red shirt over his t-shirt to make it festive. He was no AJ, but it'd do.

When he emerged, the game had been abandoned, as both Chris and Nick were back in the kitchen, doing arcane things with potatoes and so forth. AJ was supervising from the safety of the door frame.

"There you are! We were starting to wonder if you'd escaped out of the window and done a runner," AJ greeted him. "Very nice, babe."

"Nice indeed," Chris added from across the room. "I'm going to actually have to put some effort in now, or I'll be underdressed at my own dinner."

"You need any help?" Lance asked.

"Nah - Nick here's doing sterling work. You and AJ can do the washing up later."

"Score," said Nick. "I think we used, like, every single bowl in the house." Lance caught AJ's eye and made a face.

"Well, in that case, Lance and I are going to go sit around like gentlemen of leisure until you're ready for presents."

"Ohh - presents!" Chris dumped a whole chopping board's worth of carrots into one of JC's saucepans. "We'll be through in, what, five minutes?"

Presents! Somehow, in the transition from a Christmas mooching around alone to a Christmas of glam decorations and unnatural breakfast foods, Lance hadn't followed the logic through to Christmas Day and presents. AJ went back to the living room, but Lance slipped away to his room.

Luckily, all wasn't lost. Kneeling, he pulled out the cardboard box out from under his bed, where he'd shoved it so he didn't have to look at it any more.

They should have gone in the post days ago, but they hadn't. Lance had kept his family Christmas presents in the forlorn hope that he'd actually be able to hand them over in person and see them opened. The last posting date had come and gone before he' admitted to himself that the call to say he was forgiven and could come home probably wasn't coming.

"Next year," he told himself. Because Chris had said they'd forgive him, and a year was a long time, right? Right.

For now, he had this Christmas Day to look forward to. Just a few new labels, and he'd be sorted.

The Bass family traditions didn't include beans, but did dictate a selection of small presents, so he poked through the box, trying to remember what was in which package. He never knew what to buy for his dad, but Nick probably hadn't been legal for long enough that booze had become boring, so the half bottle of whiskey would be perfect. And the Urban Decay glitter eyeliner would probably see more use from AJ than it would from Stacey.

And what about Chris? Somewhere in there was a little box holding a pair of chunky silver earrings Lance had bought on the market from the guy with the cool facial tattoos. Maybe they would be...

Lance paused, then picked up the package his fingers had touched out from the bottom of the box. He'd recognised it without seeing it, because the assistant at the shop had wrapped it in shiny gold paper and tied it with an extravagant mass of gold and red ribbon, while Lance watched and hoped that the liqueur chocolates would be sophisticated enough to impress. Pretty pathetic. Reichen had said that they shouldn't buy one another presents, that he didn't want Lance to waste his student loan on it, and Lance wondered if he had guessed that things probably wouldn't last until Christmas Day.

He bet Reichen didn't have a fucking wrapped present under his bed.

Lance almost rubbed his eyes, then remembered the eyeliner. He tore a sheet off the roll of toilet paper by the bed, and carefully dabbed the dampness from his lower lids.

Then he ripped the fancy paper off the box and crumpled it up to throw in the bin. He wouldn't give Reichen's seconds to anyone, not as a proper present, but now they were just a plain box of chocolates again, everyone could enjoy them.

*****

There had been presents, and an expansive dinner, and then they'd watched Nightmare Before Christmas, the Alternative Christmas Message - with heckling - and the Doctor Who Christmas special, which had led to AJ outing himself to Lance as a massive sci-fi geek. This created a decent interval between dinner and the point when AJ had vanished upstairs to produce a massive parcel from his bags, and Chris dug out the shot glasses.

Pass the parcel, AJ and Chris style: not recommended for the under age or those of a nervous disposition, but an incredible amount of fun as long as you didn't want any of that dignity stuff people sometimes talk about. Chris generally thought people worried too much about dignity and not enough about having fun, and had designed the forfeits in each layer to punish them accordingly. The sillier the action, or more potentially embarrassing the question, the higher the spirit-based skip fee. It was like an alcoholic musical version of truth and dare, with wrapping paper.

Chris was particularly pleased with his choice of novelty Christmas hits to provide the musical part. Everyone should love Alvin and the Chipmunks and blasphemous Christmas carols. After enough brandy, everybody always did.

They hadn't yet got to the centre of the parcel, but Nick, who could be brutally honest, but kept getting physical dares he didn't want to do like running to the end of the road and back naked, was already bleary-eyed drunk, and dropping the parcel whenever it was passed to him.

They played on for another couple of rounds - Chris doing a striptease to 'Santa Baby' that left him wearing his boxers and a D-ring collar and deeply grateful that no one had a camera phone with them, and AJ admitting that when he'd been a kid he'd killed a pet goldfish and blamed it on the cat - until Lance pointed out that Nick was actually starting to look a bit green.

"Hey, Nick?" AJ clicked his fingers in front of Nick's face. Nick looked to be struggling to focus. "You want to go lie down, honey?"

Nick thought about that for a long moment, while Chris tried to remember where the bucket was, or if he'd have to liberate the washing up bowl. The lad really did look like he might chuck. Eventually Nick nodded.

It took all three of them to haul Nick off the sofa and get him propped vertically. He actually looked less nauseous once he was standing up, but his knees were very drunk, which made the fact he was half a head taller than the rest of them really inconvenient. He leaned on AJ affectionately, and mumbled that he was sorry.

"C'mon hon - nothing to be sorry about. You've just got to help us get you upstairs, okay?"

"'Kay," slurred Nick. "M'not going to be sick. S'mone else's bed."

"That's right, sweetheart," AJ told him, kissing him on the temple and taking a wobbly step forward. "You're a considerate one, you are. Chris? Can you find him a bucket or something, and a glass of water?"

"'Course," Chris said, holding the door open for them, and watching anxiously as they re-arranged themselves so that Nick wouldn't tip backwards down the stairs and take the other two down with him.

It occurred to Chris that maybe they'd been a bit mean, making Nick play when he didn't know them so well, but the warm buzz of brandy in his stomach kept any guilt at a very comfortable distance. Instead he went and rummaged around under the sink for the mop bucket, and filled a pint glass with water. When he took them upstairs, AJ was kneeling by the bed, talking to Nick in an earnest quiet voice about how it was okay, and he wasn't being a bother, while Lance had taken Nick's shoes off and was wrestling his jeans down. Chris left the glass on Justin's computer desk, and slid the bucket over near AJ's leg, and left them too it.

Back in the living room he took the opportunity to reclaim his shirts, and pottered about, desultorily shoving wrapping paper into a bin bag. He couldn't get what AJ had said the night before out of his head. He'd known AJ for years now, around on the scene, and then more closely since he'd started QT. He could normally tell when AJ was having him on …

There was a thunder and a thump as Lance and AJ came back down the stairs on none-too-steady legs. Chris would have shoved the thoughts to the back of his mind again, if they hadn't appeared in the room with their arms around each other, leaning into each other's personal space and looking hot enough to blister paint. Chris's brain tended to shut down when forced to consider his good friends, really really hot young men, threesomes, and himself all at the same time.

Fortunately the two of them didn't seem to notice, collapsing onto the bigger sofa still arm in arm, and looking up at Chris with matching quizzical eyes.

"You put your shirt back on," AJ observed.

"Both of them," Lance added. He pouted.

"You want to keep playing?" Chris asked.

"Can we not use the music?" Lance said, plaintively. Chris smiled.

"Can't play pass the parcel without music."

"Yeah we can. We can play ninja pass the parcel, and just take turns." Lance was clearly also drunk.

"We could not do the parcel and just play truth?" AJ suggested.

That seemed to make sense, so Chris sank down onto the couch beside them, Lance hot and cuddly next to him, and looked past Lance to AJ.

"You want to ask first?"

"'Kay," said AJ. "Let's see - favourite sex act? Mine's getting fucked and sucked at the same time."

Beside him, Lance blinked.

"Blow jobs with finger fucking," Chris said after a moment's contemplation. "Good to give, good to receive…"

"Lance?" prompted AJ.

It was a hundred colours of cute, how Lance's cheeks pinked up like that. "Um, rimming?"

"Oh, good choice!" AJ rewarded Lance for his bravery with a kiss on the cheek. "Your turn to ask."

"Weirdest thing you've ever done for a partner, like, in bed. And, um, mine's totally lame. Reichen liked me being dressed, and him naked, when we, you know."

"Kink-lite," AJ agreed, nuzzling into Lance's neck and resting his head on Lance's shoulder. AJ's outstretched arm had his fingers stroking up and down Chris's neck too.

"One of my exes had a thing for uniforms," Chris admitted. "I mean, I think I make a butt ugly schoolgirl, myself, but Kev … I guess there's no accounting for taste."

"Your ex wanted you in drag as a schoolgirl?" Lance's expression was priceless. Chris nodded. It was pretty weird, when you thought about it.

"Wow, that makes Robbie video taping me smoking and jerking off seem totally normal," AJ added.

"Okay, most explicit video or photos of you that you don't have custody off?" asked Chris. "And I have a get out of jail free here, 'cos I think mine's that time I modelled for JC's art project."

"Bitch," AJ cursed him affectionately. "You know Rob put that one of me online when we split up. Not that I care."

Lance looked down at his hands and blushed again. "Reichen had some videophone stuff of me going down on him. I mean, it was totally dark and fuzzy and you can't really tell it's me, but …" He trailed off, and Chris gave him a tighter hug.

"Okay, my turn." AJ broke the silence. "What's the worst thing your worst ex did to you?"

Chris looked over at AJ, above Lance's head, with an exaggerated glare. Things were way too raw for Lance to make this a safe question. AJ rolled his eyes and mouthed 'lie' at Chris before answering his own question. "This one guy, let's call him Frank."

"Because his name was Frank," Chris interrupted.

"Okay, yes, Frank. Complete bastard. He dumped me by text, and then he chucked all my stuff out in the hallway of this scuzzy place here he lived, so people picked over it like scavengers - I lost about half my cds, and someone spilt beer all over my signed Preaching to the Perverted poster."

"Shit - you remember the time that guy chucked Howie's entire suitcase out of a hotel window?" Chris offered. "Talk about melodrama."

"Yeah, but that wasn't you, so 'fes up, honey."

"Fine," Chris huffed. "Matt. Asshole had another boyfriend, back in the States that he never thought to mention to me. And he gave his boyfriend my phone number, and told the guy it was my fault that he cheated."

"Reichen cheated on me." Lance blurted out. It took Chris a moment or two to make sense of what he'd heard. Lance had told everyone he'd been dumped, that things just hadn't worked out, but this … "I told people that he dumped me, because at least that's less stupid than not knowing my boyfriend had another boyfriend."

"I once had an ex who had a boyfriend on the side and slept around with woman," AJ said, conversationally, as if Lance hadn't just detonated a rage-bomb in Chris's chest. Then AJ's finger stabbed him in the shoulder. Oh, yeah, lying to help Lance.

"I, um, have an ex who had a boyfriend and two girlfriends, but he said it was only because he believed in numerology and we had to add up to four."

AJ snorted. "That's ridiculous. Everyone knows the best number is three. Anyway - one of my exes had a boyfriend, and a girlfriend, and an unnatural interest in sheep."

"One of my exes turned out to be married." Chris rallied.

"One of my exes turned out to be married to a sheep," AJ deadpanned.

"One of my exes was married to a sheep and ate her"

"Eww!" AJ and Lance both made faces of disgust, which still looked better on Lance than the bleak, desperate expression he'd had a few minutes before.

"What, married to a sheep is okay, but sheep pussy-eating isn't?" Chris asked, in his best 'I'm just being reasonable' voice.

"Dude! Grim! And not - is that even what it's called when it's on a sheep?" AJ asked, and under Chris's arm, Lance's shoulders started to shake.

"How the hell would I know?"

"Well, you could call you ex-boyfriend." AJ's voice cracked, unable to keep his own snickering from escaping, now that Lance was laughing.

"I call shots for lying," Chris said, when their laughter had subsided, and the atmosphere threatened to turn serious again. He sloshed brandy into all three shot glasses, pressing one on Lance despite the small fact that he hadn't. At least not during the game.

The brandy burned a welcome warm trail down his throat, and beside him Lance shuddered under the generous double he'd downed.

"Famous person you'd do right now?" AJ asked, driving them back to Truth. "And I'm calling dibs on Joaquin Phoenix."

"Can I have River Phoenix before he died?" asked Lance, which Chris thought about for a second before pointing out that AJ had said 'right now', so no. "Okay then, Seth Green. You, Chris?"

"Hmmm - James Masters? No. Nathan Fillion. It's a hard choice, but someone's got to make it."

"What about real people, people we know?" Lance asked, and Chris's mouth went dry.

"Now, that is a hard choice," AJ purred. "You really want to make me pick just one?"

AJ pinched the skin above the neck of Chris's t-shirt, and he found himself saying "Nah - let's say two."

"Oh, in that case," said AJ, and Chris recognized the tension in his stomach as terror. "That's really easy. Right now? Right now I want you." AJ moved so that he could kiss Lance, just a fleeting touch, lips to lips. "And I want Chris." AJ lifted Chris's hand and turned it so he could press his mouth to the inside of Chris's wrist, touch his tongue to the pulse that was hammering there.

"You …" Lance stuttered.

"Chris?" AJ asked.

Chris screwed his courage to the sticking point, and prayed that this wasn't going to be the stupidest thing he'd done all year.

"Yes," he said, simple as anything. "You," - he wrapped his fingers over AJ's - "and you."

Lance's face turned towards him, and Chris couldn't think of a damn thing to say, didn't have any words for this, so he just went with what he could do, which was lean up and press his lips to Lance's, ride out the second's worth of panic when Lance didn't react, and then go with the swoop of glee that picked him up when Lance kissed back, firm lips parting just a touch, an unmistakable sigh breathed between them.

Lance. Lance was kissing him. Chris's drink-fuddled brain really didn't have capacity to hold onto anything else, except Lance was kissing him, and there was an arm wrapped around him, hand on his waist, one hand on his leg, another stroking his neck.

When Chris pulled back long enough to gulp for air and open his eyes, the third hand made sense - AJ nuzzling and nipping at Lance's neck, keeping Lance pleasure-flushed and breathless. God. They were really going to do this. Were doing it.

Chris twisted more, wanting to revisit the taste of Lance's mouth, but before he could get close enough AJ surfaced, looking at him with kohl-darkened eyes from only inches away. The hand on his waist - Lance's hand - pushed, and Chris found himself with one knee either side of Lance's thigh, the hard edge of the sofa's frame digging into his knees through the worn upholstery, Lance's hands roaming over his back, and AJ's mouth bare millimeters from his own. And then there was more kissing, AJ's mouth so different from Lance's, the movements harder, more certain, more lewd, tongue twisting against tongue, the metallic slide of a piercing, but with Lance's sweet, hungry panting loud in Chris's ears, and Lance's hands, one working Chris's backside through the flimsy barrier of boxer shorts, the other stroking back and forth over Chris's front, the side of his chest, his belly, finding the crease of hip and body, and then travelling back up again. AJ's hand was cupping Chris's face, hot and holding him firm, keeping him from pulling away, encouraging him to let go, to surrender to the kisses.

The booze made everything even more unreal, sort of dream-like, and detached, but really present at the same time, and Chris had no idea how long this had been going on, just that it was incredible, and that the pleasure just kept peaking, higher and higher, and all around him there were men panting and groaning.

And then Lance's hand, the hand that had been magnetically attracted to his nipples just a minute ago, found his cock.

He was going to die from sex.

He was going to die really fucking happy.

Dear Christ this was amazing, and he didn't have any spare words, or limbs, or oxygen, or brain power to tell anyone that he was about to die, messy and ecstatic, because he wasn't about to stop kissing and rubbing and whimpering, couldn't if he wanted to, which he didn't because if he stopped now he'd die from blue balls, and that was a totally impossible thought, because he was going to come now, now, _now_.

*****

Making out on the couch had been incredible, but when they'd staggered into Lance's bedroom, sprawled over his bed, and both Chris and AJ had held out hands for him, pulled him down, wrapped around him, kissing his singing skin, wanting him, loving on him; that was something else again. Lance felt like he was floating, flying, for all the incessant pulse of his hard-on kept him in the here and now. He'd never even dreamed off this, of what it would be like with two mouths, four hands, two men's attention focussed on him.

They didn't seem to need words as AJ rolled onto his back, taking Lance with him. Instinct brought Lance's arms up, so he was supporting his weight on bent elbows over AJ, looking down into dark eyes, able to kiss those beautiful lips. Behind him the bed dipped and rocked, as Chris pulled down the trousers Lance had already unbuttoned, leaving his arse bare to the room, AJ's hands roughly pushing at his shirt and t-shirt to get to bare skin.

Being stripped like this left his erection pressed against the stiff, warm denim of AJ's jeans, AJ's belt scraping against his stomach, but when the bed dipped again, and Chris's weight settled over his legs, Lance stopped thinking of that. Chris's hands were firm on Lance's bum cheeks, and he almost stopped breathing when Chris's breath came startlingly warm over Lance's exposed backside. Even AJ's lean body moving underneath his couldn't hold his attention for those few seconds where he was just waiting, knowing what Chris was doing. And then, at last, it came, the electric hot touch of Chris's tongue, and Lance pushed his scream into AJ's willing mouth.

AJ's hands anchored him, one riding his shoulders, the other working down between them to tug and fumble the obstructions away, while Chris's hands held his hips still, so that Chris's mouth could work this magic. It was cramped and awkward and sexy as hell, and when AJ's cock finally lined up with his own, all slick, burning heat, Lance tried to move more. Chris's grip pushed down against the combined upward pressure of AJ and Lance's thrusting, which ground Lance's cock against AJ's, sending sparks through his blood.

They didn't hang around, these two, there was no teasing, no power games, no maybes, just pleasure, and an overwhelming, relentless, drive towards orgasm forcing Lance to rock between AJ's mouth and Chris's, riding the crescendo, until it crashed over him, heat surging against his bare stomach, AJ arching up against him, coming with him.

Eventually, of course, they had to move, a sticky, stiff, untangling of limbs that Lance was half expecting to end in disaster. Disaster seemed so much more plausible than what had just happened. What was maybe happening.

Only AJ stretched out with a contented 'oh, man', and, once he'd shuffled out of his jeans, reached out to pull Lance firmly back against him, and Chris vanished for a disorienting minute, but came back, all minty fresh and bringing with him water, because Lance's throat was scratchy from screaming, and somehow, all three of them fitted together in Lance's unmade double bed.

*****

There was light filtering into the room around the curtains when Chris startled awake, not sure why, or where he was. His mouth was sandpaper dry, and he reached semi-consciously for the glass of water he had on his chest of drawers, only to find an expanse of bare skin.

Chris remembered.

Lance's arm was looped over his waist, and over Lance's shoulder Chris could see AJ, snuggled in close. Turning over didn't dislodge Lance's hold. In fact, Lance's grip tightened slightly, as if he didn't want Chris to leave. Chris didn't think he wanted to leave, so that was okay. He just wanted to be able to reach a glass of water and do something about the desert in his mouth. The water was warm, and probably dusty, but it was also perfect. The glass settled back onto Lance's desk, and Chris let himself flop back onto the pillow. He lay there, staring out into Lance's unnaturally neat room for a little while, just feeling the weight of Lance's arm, listening to the three of them breathing.

There.

Footsteps in the room above. That must have been what had woken him up.

Chris closed his eyes. Nick going to the bathroom, he thought. Nothing he needed to get out of bed for.

When he woke up again, the light was brighter, he could hear the tv going in the living room next door, and the man curled against his back with one arm wrapped around him was wearing far too many bracelets to be Lance.

AJ was clearly a heavy sleeper, not stirring more than to mumble and curl in on himself when Chris slid out from under his arm.

Chris wrapped one of Lance's towels around his waist and peered out into the hall. There didn't seem to be anyone in the kitchen, so he padded into the living room. Lance was on the couch in his dressing gown, channel hopping.

"Morning," Chris said.

"Hey." Lance looked up, his expression guarded but hopeful.

"Space on there for two?"

Lance nodded, so Chris sat down next to him, leaned in to kiss his cheek.

"So, we're not forgetting that happened?" Lance asked, after a few seconds of silence.

Chris snorted. "Personally, I'm planning on mounting the memory in some sort of hall of fame, unless," and there was a cold sensation as he said this "you want us to forg-"

"No!" Lance blurted. "Chris, no, I… I don't want to forget it. I was kind of hoping maybe it could happen again?"

"Like, a mad Christmas holiday thing? Or more a kind of boyfriends thing? 'Cos I can't speak for AJ, and, you know, it's not like I can offer you a place in the country and unlimited Crystal, but …"

"I don't want Crystal," Lance pointed out. "I just want you."

Chris looked at Lance with narrowed eyes, and jerked his head towards Lance's bedroom.

"Oh, um, yeah. And maybe also him?" Lance's cheeks were pink again.

"I, for one, am up for that." Chris smiled, and held out his arms, Lance abandoning the remote and folding up against him. He couldn't begin to say how good it felt, to be sitting here holding Lance.

"Oh, um, sorry - didn't mean to interrupt."

Both Chris and Lance jumped and Chris twisted his head to see the living room door.

"Justin?"

"Hi," Justin said sheepishly. "I came back early, caught the first train this morning. I have work stuff..."

"Oh, fuck - Justin. There's this friend of mine, Nick. He's kind of crashing in your room. I'm really sorry. I'll go, um, go and wake him up now."

He was already scrambling to his feet, trying to keep the bath towel in place, when Justin held up the hand which had been hidden behind the door frame. He was carrying two steaming mugs.

"No worries, Chris - we met. It's all fine." Justin rubbed at his neck with his other hand, and Chris suddenly noticed the red marks there, looking suspiciously like very fresh love bites. "Actually, I guess I ought to say thank you for the surprise Christmas present, even if it was kind of hung over. I definitely wasn't expecting it, anyway."

Chris gaped at him.

"So." Justin grinned. "I'll just, you know, leave you guys to it. See you later. Looks like you'll have a lot to tell me."

Justin vanished up the stairs, and Chris subsided back onto the couch. Lance blinked at Chris.

"That? Was really weird," he pointed out.

Chris pulled him over, getting back the closeness they'd lost. "Yeah. Although...I don't know. Maybe it isn't. J's room is right over yours, and I think AJ has, like, a magical aura of sex. Either that, or -" He tipped his head back, and nodded up at the ceiling. "It's all the mistletoe."

"That's probably it. Mistletoe." Lance snuggled right up against him. "AJ was right about one thing, anyway."

Chris kissed his temple. "Mmm? What?"

"Turns out I really did want a naked Christmas."

* end *


End file.
